A Demon's Possession
by demonkittyX
Summary: When Pip enters the afterlife he is informed that he's been 'bailed out'. Unfortunately, only the person who killed you can do this and that happens to be Damien. In exchange he's decided that Pip is his possession and as his possession he has to keep him safe. That's when the murders start. Full summary inside. Future character death, gore, lots of Dip. Prepare for the worst.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Full description:When Pip enters the after life he is informed that he's been 'bailed out'. Unfortunately, only the person who killed you can do this and that happens to be Damien. In exchange he's decided that Pip is his possession and as his possession he has to keep him safe. That's when the murders start Pip, being totally oblivious, thinks there is just a random maniac about and confines in Damien. Confining in the killer can be rather dangerous though. How far is Damien willing to go to have Pip all to himself? Contains character death, gore, lots of Dip. Prepare for the worst. I do not plan to have smut in here but I'm writing this chapter by chapter so who knows what might pop up. Happy reading.

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Pip's light sky blue eyes scanned over his surroundings. People were lined up all in front of him and behind him as well. Walls made out of cumulus clouds enclosed the large building. He'd been waiting in this line for some time now.

He kept his head down. It was an old habit that he had picked up ever since his parents had passed away. He thought it helped hide him better. He lips were pressed tightly together in a thin line. Being silent was also another thing he thought would help him blend. He honestly had a hard time being quiet though. Maybe if he had kept his mouth shut he wouldn't have ended up like this.

Pip is eight, blue eyed, British, and blonde. Sadly, he has also passed on. He could thank a certain Antichrist for that. He straightened his bow a bit as he moved a few steps forward in rhythm with the line. He would stand there in line for a couple more hours, pondering over why he was hated so much and why he had deserved to die.

His pupils dilated when he looked up at the person in front of him. No. It wasn't a person. It was more of a creature and it had to at least stand nine feet tall, dwarfing the blonde. The creature had blue fur covering its whole body and honestly, it looked like a deformed humanoid rabbit. He held a large book and a quill in its paws. Menacing fangs poked out in its smile as it nodded its head at Pip politely, blinking four blood colored eyes at him. Ever polite he, Pip dipped his head back.

The creature's ears flattened back against its head as he opened its jaws, making a serious of hissing and clicking noises before ever speaking in proper English.

"And your name is Phillip Pirrup, correct?" His words slithered out past his jagged fangs, sending a chill up Pip's spine as he gazed up at the beast.

"U-Uh…Yes," Pip longed to place a 'sir' or 'miss' after his reply but he really could not detect the gender of the creature. It had a male sounding voice but how could you really be certain about a creature like this.

The beast chuckled at the frightened look in his eyes and began to flip through some pages before scribbling down something. "Well, Phillip, it seems today is not your day," it offered a kind smile down at him but to Pip it was still horrifying.

Pip managed to snap out of his frightened state and raised a brow in question, "A-Am I not dead though?"

"Smart lad you are. Although it seems you were bailed out."

He did not have enough time to even to say another word of a question before the world turned completely black to him. He could feel nothing but the deadly sensation of falling. He had no idea where he was falling to though. But his heart felt like it was sinking and he could feel wind pass over his limbs and his hair raise. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound left his lips.

And then the world seemed to falter to a stop.

There was no sound. Complete silence eating up any sound that might try to break through like a ravenous coyote devouring up a rabbit.

The coyote of silence melted away as the rabbit of noise wailed.

The blaring noise of an alarm pierced through the darkness and silence. And Pip found himself jolting up in his bed and instinctively turning off the alarm like he did every morning.

But this was all very long. Pip could remember dying. He could remember where he was. He could remember falling to the last detail. Yet, here he was in his bed like nothing had ever happened. Was this what being a ghost was like or was he really alive?

As Pip questioned over everything over and over in his mind, a boy just shy the age of nine stood out across the street, adorning in midnight black clothes. Dangling from his neck was a pure silver inverted cross, shining brightly in dawn's light. His crimson eyes stared at the Brit's house with intent, fire sparking here and there near his pupils. He brushed his black bangs over as he grinned a bit.

"Damien! Come now! We must leave!"

He glanced over his shoulder, gazing upon Satan himself. His father. They were always on the move and for once, he fit in this place. It was so corrupt that it could rival Hell's atmosphere. He glanced back over at the Pirrup residence, cursing aloud in Latin. He wasn't very comfortable with leaving his property here but he didn't have a choice for now.

The Antichrist shoved his hands into his pockets and strode up to his father, furrowing his brows up at him before smirking.

This wouldn't be the last time he'd be in South Park and it certainly wouldn't be the last time Pip and he would see each other.


	2. Chapter 2

Pip winced when a piece of chalk hit his head. He pouted a bit at the small, stinging pain from the impact and sighed, raising his gaze over at the teacher whose arms were crossed and looked less than thrilled.

"I expect you to pay attention Mr. Pirrup." The redhead instructor commented before getting a new piece for chalk.

A few students snickered at him but all he did was smile politely and muttered a soft apology. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a few classmates start to scribble down notes and pass them to their friends.

Friends.

That was something Pip hadn't had the pleasure of having for years now. Even at the age of seventeen now and a senior at South Park High, he did not have someone to call a friend. He was alone, and that was how it'd always been. But he longed for it to be different. He ached to know what it was like to have someone to share your secrets with and to talk to when you're down. He wondered just how many of his classmates took their friends for granted. If they were like him, would they understand just how wonderful it was to have someone to call their friend?

Pip made sure to act like he was paying attention to the lesson but he just could not focus. His mind was stuck on the thought of being alone. But, there had been a time where he had begun to think that he wasn't going to end up all alone and have someone to call a friend.

But he had left and hurt Pip inside. He knew quite well that Damien was gone for good and he wasn't too upset about it. Or so he thought. Damien had only used him to earn some respect and friendship from his classmates. What horrified him was that it worked. How could people want to be friends with someone who set someone on fire and make them explode like fireworks?

He would have to ask himself the same question though. He didn't exactly hate Damien for what he did and he wasn't able to hold a grudge against him for it either. He understood why Damien had done it. He just wanted to belong and that was the only way he figured that he'd get some positive attention. Pip made a small, soft groaning noise as he thought about it further.

Soon enough, the dismissing bell run for school to end and jolted him out of his thoughts. He quickly gathered up his books and his bag, dropping the textbooks off in his locker, before fleeing from the school as fast as he could.

When school ended, it was a relief. He was able to head home. But it was also a horrible time. This was the time of the day when he was most vulnerable to people in the school. And usually every day he was stopped by someone and abused in some way. If he was lucky, he'd be able to leave fast enough to where he'd be able to get out unharmed.

Today was not that day though.

Before he could completely register what happened, he was shoved to the ground near the flagpole. His bag felt down with a thump next to him as his body and the items leaking from his back make imprints in the snow. A cackle sounded behind him. He knew the laugh from anywhere and he didn't need to turn to fit the face with it. Eric Cartman took the liberty of harassing that blonde at any chance he got.

Pip groaned and tried to bring himself up off the ground but Cartman's show pounding down on his back made him lurch back down to the ground with a whimper.

"Hey Frenchie. I saw you leaving so quickly and I can't help but feel hurt," He could practically hear the smirk in his voice, "How could you stand to leave without saying goodbye to your old pal?"

It is best to stay completely silent in this kind of situation. The stinging cold of the snow beat at Pip's face as he kept his head down. He mentally told himself to not try to run or make any noises. It'd only further the beating.

Cartman threw a kick at the Brit's side, which earned him a small gasp of pain. Pip clutched at the abused area and screwed his eyes shut in agony. He'd kicked him rather hard, like he was some stray dog.

Pip let out a squeal as he was dragged up to his knees by his hair. The larger, brunette teen leaned in and hissed in his ear, "Don't do it again."

Then he was set free.

He could barely manage to crack his eyes open, but he did. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes but he didn't let them flow. The worst thing you could do is cry after a beating from Cartman. He could make out bystanders, most consisting of his classmates. A few people snickered but most just watched in either sick fixation or sympathy. No one stood up for him though and no one ever would.

The crowd began to disperse as students left for the walk or ride home. A couple figures began to approach him, but he was too busy dusting off his hat. It had managed to fall off his head during the fall.

"My oh my. Rather depressing how he always picks on you. You really should fight back sometime," Gregory flashed him a smile of perfect white and straight teeth before bending down and helping gather Pip's stuff.

Gregory wasn't Pip's friend in the least. He just seemed to find it sad how pathetic Pip was. In his good nature, he helped the other blonde. Gregory would never consider him a friend though. Pip did not mind. He was just glad to have the polite company.

Behind Gregory stood Christophe, who was busy scanning his surroundings like crazy. He was known for his paranoia these days. His messy brown hair stood up in various places and appeared to haven't been washed or combed for some time. He was adorned in a large green shirt that looked two sizes too big at least, tattered jeans, and a piece of rope hung from around his shoulder. His shovel was strapped to his back. He was only allowed to bring it to school because he threatened the staff board that he's bash in all their skulls if they didn't.

An old item clung to Christophe's neck though. A spiked, leather dog collar. Pip had seen the brunette start to wear it about three years ago. A few people questioned him about it but he simply screamed that it was none of their business. Eventually, people stopped asking.

"Gregoree, 'urry ze 'ell up. You know 'e might show up 'ere and get me eef I'm late," Christophe hissed out, messing with the collar cautiously.

Gregory let out a long side and placed a stray piece of hair back in place before handing the bag off to Pip, "Learn to fight back. It'll help you know." He stood to his feet and smoothed out his orange dress shirt before flicking the brunette on the nose. Christophe wrinkled his nose up and cursed in French.  
Pip muttered a thank you as he stood, eyeing Christophe's collar. He didn't understand what it was about it but it was really interesting to him. Almost compelling.

Pip left for home, not giving it another thought.

* * *

Christophe stared up at the house before him. It was not his own. The home was two stories big and had a garage where a black Ferrari was parked. He's been here a million times it's felt like.

He paced up to the doorstep and knocked. He knew that if he didn't, he'd be in trouble. The door creaked open on its own. Normally, this would have freaked anyone out but not him. He was way too used to it.

He entered the house, the scent of copper and death filling his nostrils. It was a common smell in the home, as common as someone taking a breath. The whole house was dark with the exception of a few lit candles scattered in various places on the floor or on shelves. He began making his way over to the living room. A inverted cross hung over the black leather couch. The TV emitted soft flickers of dancing light around, making the figure on the couch visible.

Christophe let out a soft sigh of relief. But his muscles stiffened when the figure began to move.

"You're about ten minutes late, Christophe. What kept you?" The demon raised his head up, his crimson eyes casting a soft glow.

The mercenary shrugged and pulled a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, lighting himself one and inhaling the chemicals deeply. He exhaled slowly before smirking, "Don't care. Gregoree decided to 'elp zome keed. Pheelip I zink 'is name ees."

Damien began to sit up, his bangs flopping down in his eyes. His hair had grown reasonably long over the years. He brushed them over and scratched his scalp as he started to wake up fully.

"…..He's still around? I thought he would have left this town long ago?" He commented, blinking up at the Frenchman.

"Eef you actually left this house of yours then you'd know zat." He remarked, taking a long drag off of his cancer stick.

Damien held a firm glare with him for a while before snorting, "Fuck you. Although….since he never left, I won't have to chase him down now."

The mercenary raised a brow at this. What interest could the Antichrist have in Pip? He was so...well, innocent. He would think that that innocence would make the demon want to hurl his innards up and slit his own throat.

"Deveel boy, what is zat supposed to mean exactly?" He questioned, his eyes narrowing. He didn't like other people but he didn't enjoy unnecessary killing. And if that's what Damien had in mind, he didn't approve.

Damien flashed him a coy smirk, his tongue tracing over his upper lip. It sent a shiver down the brunette's spine. "I hold a particular interest in him. I have ever since I blew him the fuck up." He chuckled fondly at the memory.

The Antichrist shook his head a few times as he stood. He remembered what he had done for the British blonde. He saved him from death because he held a fascination with him. The same he had done with Christophe a few years back when the mercenary was shot by a sniper on a mission. He liked Christophe because of his stubbornness and the life he had in him. He quickly tamed the brunette and quickly, the demon lost interest in him. He was certain that Pip would be an interesting thing to play with though and if he was still as innocent as he was when he was eight then Damien wanted to claim him for himself.

"Christophe, get the fuck over here!" He snapped, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the brunette.

He nearly dropped his cigarette at the command. Obediently, he trekked over to Damien, but not without muttered many obscenities under his breath. Christophe knew better than to disobey the demon at this point. He had scars from missions, plenty of them, but he most bruises, scars, and broken bones came from Damien over these few years. Eventually, he gave in to the demon's will.

Damien smirked down at him. He was just about a foot taller than the brunette. He stood proudly at 6'2". He reached his hand out and brushed the back of his claws against Christophe's cheek. "You've been such a good human," He cooed softly, although his gaze remaining dangerous, "But you've lost your spark. You're dull to me now, mortal. "

Christophe face paled a bit. He began to think that Damien was going to do away with him. He wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Damien's fingers traced the edge of the dog collar around his neck. He'd put it there as a reminder that Christophe was his. He even took the liberty of placing a spell on it so that only he could remove it. It'd been there for some years now. He delicately began to engrave a symbol of an inverted pentagram into it as he muttered a spell in Latin. Christophe hitched his breath in panic and began to reach for his shovel but his body started to feel numb. His muscles tensed and his heart raced, beating against his ribcage like a snare drum. Damien began to remove it from the brunette's neck a large patch of raw and tender skin where the collar had lain. Christophe shut his eyes as his neck started to burn. He shrieked in agony and fell to his knees, his hands cupping the sensitive areas. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he collapsed over onto his side, spasming on the floor. Damien stepped over him and snorted.

"It'll subside in an hour. When it does, get out of my house. I never want to see you fucking face again." He stated, meandering upstairs.

Christophe winced as he forced his arm to outstretch. He grasped the discarded collar in his hand and groaned.

Christophe wouldn't move again for about two hours after actually. After that, he left, rushing to Gregory's place.

Damien remained upstairs all the while, sitting on his bed and thinking. He'd released Christophe, now bored of his presence. He stared up at his ceiling, a slight frown set on his lips. He craved something new and pure to taint now. He wanted to own something again. Something so fragile that he could break with a touch. He could only think of one thing that fit that description and he was all too eager to have it.

Pip.

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AN: I would like to apologize for my horrible writings of Christophe's accent. Things will start to pick up here soon, everyone! Bear with me. C: Thank you for reading too! 3


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